Mother's Day Drive

We travel a bumpy and slightly winding country road to get to church. On this day the sun shines brightly in a big, blue Texas sky. Prairie grasses wave in the gentle morning breeze. The trees are green and leafy. The bluebonnets have faded but there is still plenty of color. Texas paintbrush, primrose, black-eye susans and some that I don't know dot the pastures.

Joseph is "girl-trapped" between two of his sisters in the way back. Jacob and Sarah seem to be having a contest to see who can be the silliest. I look back. Jacob is wearing bright blue racecar slippers. I look at Kermit.

"He brought the slippers to me. I put them on his feet", he says defensively. I decide there are worse things to wear to church. It's all the same to the three-year-old and he won't remember anyway.

We slow down for some construction. It seems that someone has decided to smooth some of the bumps on this road. A yellow butterfly catches my eye and then we are gone. We pass a field of mesquite trees. (Can mesquite trees be a forest?) Their scraggly limbs meander up, topped by feathery leaves that hang down.

We arrive to the highway and are almost to the church. Two exits down and a few more fields and we will be there. It is about 25 minutes from start to finish. We drive this every week. Sometimes more than once. We've lived here five years. It never gets old. Everytime I find some new detail. Everytime I think how good Heavenly Father is to me.

Snow Days

We have had a week of snow and ice here in North Texas. Schools were closed all but two days last week. More is expected this next week. All I can say to that is, "ugh."

I'm tired of snow. I'm tired of being in the house. I'm tired of the kids being in the house. I want blue skies and dry roads. It doesn't even have to be very warm. I just want to feel the sunshine on my face again.

Little J doesn't seem to mind the snow. It was six inches thick on the ground Friday. (Don't laugh friends from the north. That's a lot of snow for us in the south.) He bundled up and went outside. When he got off the steps he threw himself face forward and rolled around in the snow. It was like watching a pig wallow in mud. He so obviously enjoyed it. I almost remember liking snow that much. Not anymore. I crave the warmth.

One good thing about being housebound, my version of cabin fever is to clean furiously. I mean, what the heck else did I have to do? Other days I can find worthy diversions. Outside is so much nicer than dishes. Except when there is snow and ice.

By now, even the kids are tired of the snow.l

I'd Walk a Mile

This is something I did for my writing class:

I'd walk a mile for a chance to hold my grandmother's wrinkled hand. The hand once was strong but now has grown soft and frail with age. Each line, spot and knot is a map of her history.

In one line I see her youth in Depression-era Oklahoma. Chasing her younger brother through the woods next to their farm. Turning every page of every book in the school's small library. Sticking a broom handle down cracks in the dry ground just to see how far it would go. In this knot she is making a fist to warn off the other girls from her beau. Then that fist relaxes as she waves good-bye to that boy who joined the Marines at the tail end of World War II.

Those hands have held babies, dried tears and tucked into bed children and grandchildren. She's cooked many a supper, played many a game of cards and raised more than one glass of whiskey. Her hands taught me the joys of dirt and homegrown tomatoes, how to hold a crochet hook and thread a needle and the fine art of making white gravy.

Love is spoken in those wrinkles. I look at my hands and hope that they can one day be as beautiful.

The Fun New Toy

The best things in life are free. I just set up a Skype account. And then I told my mom about Skype. She has an account. We got to video chat. Fun for me and for the two kiddos that were still awake. Couldn't get my microphone to work. But Kermit has fixed that. (He's so awesome.)

So, now I have this wonderful way to communicate with my family. I can include the kids in the conversations. It's wonderful. It is such a blessing.

This is going to be a really short post.

My Interview by Hannah

For a school assignment, Hannah interviewed her little sister.

H: Where do you want to live when you grow up? What do you like about that place?
S: In Forney, because I see lots of pretty cars and some time I see changing color cars.

H: What kind of animals do you want? Why do you want them?
S: Cats, dogs, chickens, pigs for ham and bacon. I get to pet my cats and dogs and kill the pigs and chickens.

H: What to you want to be when you grow up? What do you like about that job?
S: A doctor. Then I can look in peoples' ears and know a bunch of stuff. And I can have fun.

H: Who are your friends? What do you like about them?
S: Ari, Catherine, Alina, Maggie. They play with me and we have fun and play lots of things.

Halloween Tricks and Treats (or clothing sizes lie but daughter's smiles make it OK.)

My mother may think I wasted my college education on a theatre degree, but around October it comes in handy. My children are completely delighted with the large Rubbermaid storage boxes we have full of costume bits and pieces. I a bit fond of them myself. I'm only embarrassed by the fact that I only have two.

This year, as in years past, we delighted in pulling out the bits and baubles to create costumes for ourselves. My oldest found a long wig and a dashiki. Instant hippie. If he was just a bit bigger he could've worn his dad's bell bottom jeans. My youngest wore the pig costume that I made when that hippie-boy was the toddler. We've gotten a lot of mileage out of that costume. Each one of the kids have worn it. Each one made it a little different. When E. wore it she decided it was more appopriate to say "Oink" instead of "Trick or Treat". When it was S.'s turn, she added a tutu.

The Halloween trick was on me. I was helping H put together something, so she wouldn't have to be Hermione Granger again. Stripey socks and a mop cap inspired a "Ragdoll" costume. She thought that I should dress-up, too. I pull out my costume skirt and my blousy blouse that I made before I was married. It's one thing to know that you are not that same size as when you are 20. It's quite another thing to be confronted with it in a very real, concrete way. When I shop for clothes, I buy that same sizes that I did 20 years ago. Therefore, I have not changed size. (Big, fat lying clothing manufacturers). What a surprise to put on this skirt and discover that I could not fasten it shut. Not only could I not fasten it shut, I couldn't even make the hook side even get in the same county as the loop side. No big deal, I thought. I'll put on the waist cinch that I made way back when. It will tuck everything in. I'm not sure why I thought the waist cinch that I'd made at the same time I made that traitorous skirt would fit any better. Some form of denial, I'm sure.

I was about to give up on the whole idea, except for my daughter. My daughter, who was so very delighted with the idea of matching costumes with her mom. My daughter, who smiled with pure joy as we painted faces and put ribbons in our braided hair. In an instant I realized that this was important to her. Safety pins and an apron could cover what that daughter and her siblings had added to my waist. My kids don't care that I'm thicker in the middle or that I'm soft where I used to be toned.

The Halloween trick had become the Halloween treat.

He Was Going To Eat It, But It Fit So Well Up His Nose

Well, after a long, dry spell here I am again to report on the doings of my little tribe. Let's start with Little J. Little J. That is what he likes to be called now. "I Little J", he says. Poor Little J has had a hard week. He has now officially been to the hospital as many times as Big J. Two of those trips happened this past week. Last week Hannah thought it would be fun to swing him around by his arms. (Oh, no. Wait. According to Hannah, they were travelling through a magic portal.)

"Hannah. Don't swing him around like that."

"But, Mom, it's fun."

"No. Seriously. Don't do that."

"Ha ha ha ha. Ho ho ho ho. Hee hee hee...."

"WHHAAAAA!!!!"

"Mom. Something's wrong with Jacob's arm."

Another trip to the ER. Jacob has now been sent to the ER by all of his sisters. Poor Hannah felt like dirt.

A dislocated elbow is surprisingly easy to fix.He was very tense, which made it a little difficult to pop the elbow back in place. They gave him some pain medication. After the drugs took effect, fixing it was as easy as a handshake. He was using his arm again as soon as he forgot that he was supposed to be hurt.

The next trip to the hospital was just yesterday. This one started about two weeks ago. It was then that I noticed a rather foul odour emanating from my darling child. There was nothing on him. Bathed the boy. Washed his hair. He was still smelly. It soon became apparent that the smell was strongest around his nostril. (Never thought I'd be sniffing a nose.) It was then that I remembered that I stuck a hot roller sponge up my nose when I was that age. My mom described the smell. It seemed suspicious. The mystery object was far up enough that he would need to be sedated to remove it. We were scheduled to arrive at the OR in the very early hours. It took the doctor about 5 minutes to remove the object. It was a piece of once white fabric. I think it was a piece of the wedding dress I just constructed for my niece. I can only guess that it felt silky and smooth.